Same Old Story
by ByrdIsTheWyrd
Summary: Jayce has found himself in the clutches of his eternal archenemy, Viktor, thanks to his cruel Noxian captors. Expecting to be experimented on or worse, he finds Viktor has a few different ideas for what to do with him. Jayce is surprised by the results. Viktor/Jayce, "Clutch on the Magnum" AU, NSFW.


A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first try at a PWP-ish fic, so I hope you like it! It takes place in the same AU as Clutch on the Magnum, so if you haven't read that fic, I would suggest reading the prologue before coming back here. I didn't want to include it in that fic because it would be very out of place, but I felt the urge to write it anyways.

As you will see at the ending, there is room for another chapter (but it feels complete as of now). If you feel like there should be another chapter, please tell me in a review! I would appreciate it!

With no further ado, enjoy Same Old Story!

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"Don't struggle," his half-robotic voice crackled, "you don't have your accursed toy to help you."

That didn't convince me. I wrenched at the bonds around my wrists with all my might, wishing that I could just pull one a little looser. I didn't have my Mercury Hammer, as it had been lost in the Noxian attack on my lab, but I was going to have to find some way out of this mess. I really needed to make a new one, but the Noxians had me worked to the bone on all of their Pulsetech suits.

"If you keep trying to break my equipment like that, I might have to replace your other arm with something stronger. Your weak flesh is already marred." His back was turned to me, confident that his bonds were stronger than any force I could put into breaking them. He was right, of course. I'd been cuffed to an examination table when I was unconscious, my shoulders aching from where they were tied over my head. The cuffs were mercifully padded with a layer of leather. Of course, I'm sure my captor simply didn't want me bleeding on his equipment.

I glanced up at my left arm, and sure enough, red and purple were blooming underneath the leather strap. My right arm was cold and unfeeling, as always.

"Viktor! Let me leave in peace, or you know the Noxians will—"

"Will what, kill me? Have you forgotten that your Noxian masters are the ones who threw you in here?" He chuckled, his voice suddenly less tinny. "Maybe you should try staying on task the next time the Noxians want you to finish a project for them, hm?"

I looked over when I heard a bolt fall to the stone floor, and cringed as Viktor hooked two fingers beneath his metal jaw and pulled. His face pulled off cleanly, and he began oiling and cleaning the mask that he'd removed. He turned his head to catch me staring, and I gasped.

His eyes were still two yellow lanterns in his head, but everything below his cheekbones was still human. I hadn't expected any flesh to remain beneath that horrible mask. His nose had a metal plate over the soft cartilage, and metal glinted out from beneath his high collar. His chin was strong and his teeth were straight. Traits I never imagined a monster could have. And yet, there was a broad human grin that could never reach his eyes.

"Get these damn chains off of me!" I growled again, returning to the problem at hand. I wrenched my arms again, the chains clinking together in protest. The table at my back was cold, and with the bindings where they were, I couldn't move more than an inch in any direction. My ankles were bound to the foot of the table with cuffs matching those on my wrists. Viktor had earlier mentioned that they were for less willing soldiers of the glorious evolution.

I'd been pressed against this icy surface for hours already, waiting for my captor to free me. He had done nothing but ignore my very presence, then strangely decided to remove my shirt. He'd done it forcefully, shredding the cotton all too easily beneath his robotic fingertips. The cold was now growing painful, and my stubbornness was the only thing keeping my teeth from chattering.

"My perfect enemy, what makes you think I should ever take those chains off of you? You'd make a gorgeous decoration, lying there, shivering. Of course, I'd have to feed you occasionally." He laughed as he passed me, trailing icy steel fingers over my stomach. There was no human warmth to them.

He unlatched his shoulder pad and third arm. He set the whole bundle on top of his lab desk, the arm standing creepily up in the air. It creaked occasionally. The fingers were still moving.

He slid his glove off of his right hand, which was still skin and bones. I knew his left hand was a four-fingered robotic prototype of the arm he'd given me, and it made my skin crawl. His filthy hands had been on me, inside my mangled shoulder, attaching wires and tubes and metal to the tendons, blood vessels, and bones. I had been a damaged product without his invention, one who would have been thrown into the Noxian streets to die, useless and weak. It was disgusting, being in debt to the one person I hated most.

Part of me still wished I had died that day, instead of losing my good arm in the attack. I wouldn't be imprisoned indefinitely, and I certainly wouldn't be here with an inhuman madman.

Viktor looped his robotic fingers around the latch on his cape, pulling precisely and letting the blue fabric fall to the floor. It splayed across the stone like a stringless marionette, revealing the blood-red underside.

He approached me again, that damn soulless grin on his face. He pressed those four fingers into my hip and leaned much too close. I turned my head away from his glowing eyes, hoping he would lose interest and leave me to lay here.

No such luck. Viktor pulled away for a moment and knelt beside the table, unscrewing something squeakily. The table dropped with a lurch, and my stomach jumped into my throat. Then with one fluid motion, he adjusted the table to stand straight up, forcing me to hang from my wrists. The table locked again, and he chuckled darkly. Suddenly he was much too close, eye to eye with me. His breath was warm on my cheek, his hands on either side of my waist. He pressed the table, and me with it, into the wall with the full weight of his body, his sharp teeth too close to my ear for comfort.

"How do I know you will behave if I release you?" he hissed straight into my neck. "You can't even make your human body behave. You should let me augment you. My technology can fix that weakness." His voice was low and gravelly. I tried not to think of what kind of technological bastardization of the human body he was envisioning that could stop my body from reacting to this. Viktor's shirt was heavy, radiating a surprising heat from beneath it. His chest was hard with steel and sinew. I held my breath.

His human hand brushed against my chest, fingertips locating a nipple. I gasped - it was warmth against the cold of the steel to my back. A finger and thumb kneaded once, twice, and pulled away with a twist.

I tried to stifle a moan.

I hated feeling helpless. I hated him. I hated that he could do this to me so easily. And I hated myself for letting him.

He ran those teasing fingers down my chest, across my stomach. His fingertips found the waistband of my pants. Then he let them dip, just for a second, into the space between my pants and my hips.

He was studying me. I was a bug under the microscope, an anomaly in the data. His hands fell to his sides and he stepped away.

Now my bottom half was as uncomfortable as my top half. I grit my teeth painfully hard as Viktor went back to ignoring my very existence, now tinkering with a few odds and ends lying on a nearby table. It was obvious that he was goading me by the way he would glance at me every few minutes and his mouth would quirk up in a satisfied smile. Every inch of me ached, and he wanted me to be the one to beg.

"Get me the hell down," I snarled through clenched teeth. He barely turned, mouth in a predatory smile. My frustration amused him, my silence brought him too close to me. I couldn't expect mercy from a monster. I couldn't win.

His belt came off next, thrown sloppily across his chair. He then peeled himself out of his bodysuit. First, he revealed a bare shoulder, marked by the pressure from his heavy third arm. Next, he unhooked the sleeve at his robotic wrist, and slid his arm from the suit. He repeated on the other side, slipping a wire-striped bicep from the black suit, then an unblemished forearm. With his back still to me, he pulled the suit down to his hips, letting the top flop over. His back was covered in scars and a metal encasing on his spine. Two glowing tubes ran along either side of the encasing, disappearing back under his skin at the base of his neck. From there, he had a jointed steel tube around his neck, solid but flexible. He rolled his shoulders a few times, and I watched the sections of his neck glide effortlessly across each other.

I was transfixed.

He smirked at me, and I knew I'd been caught staring. My gaze turned quickly to the floor, and I hoped the heat rising to my face wasn't visible. Why had I been staring? Was it because I had nothing better to turn my gaze to? Was I that concerned with how human he still was? Had I deluded myself into thinking he could still be saved, that there was some part of him that still felt and imagined and hoped, could believe in logical fallacies and human good?

Was he still like me?

Maybe I was grudgingly impressed with the way he'd melded man and machine. Maybe some part of me wanted to see what abnormalities his clothes had been hiding all this time. Whatever it was, it drove me to peer up at him again.

Viktor's thumbs found the edges of the body suit that was still clinging to his hips. He slowly peeled the fabric off, probably being careful not to take anything he was wearing underneath with it. Sure enough, he revealed slate blue fabric - boxers, I saw shortly - before pausing to pop his right leg off at the knee. I swallowed hard as a wave of nausea hit me. The disembodied foot flexed of its own accord as Viktor calmly removed the rest of his leg from his bodysuit. He steadied himself with one hand on the desk, and popped the lower half of his leg back into place as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

The other leg was trickier. He sat gingerly on the edge of his chair and used both hands to unlock the brace that appeared to be bolted into his femur and tibia. This leg had been injured in the past, possibly in battle. The white scars and deformation of his shin spoke volumes about the level of injury he'd sustained. The metal here looked newer, perhaps recently replaced? Was this where he'd started his merging of biology and technology?

It took him some time to wiggle the suit over his prosthetic foot, which had been replaced from the ankle down, but when he'd succeeded, he tossed the suit to the floor to join his cape. He hefted the iron brace into his lap, and after running a rag across it and oiling the joint, he reattached it to his femur and anchored the end to the side of his shin.

I hadn't noticed it before, but he wore a thin chain around his neck, hints of a life now past. It glinted in the low light as his chest heaved up and down with each powerful breath. His torso was unmarked, which surprised me for some reason. Perhaps I'd been expecting signs of multiple organ replacements or a bionic ribcage. That was stupid, of course, there isn't a soul alive who could remove their own heart or stomach and survive the ordeal. Not even Viktor. And he was known for working alone, rooted firmly in old tools like wrenches and welding torches. He wouldn't touch my newly patented nanotechnology or matter transfer if his life depended on it. I couldn't say the same for myself. I flexed my prosthetic arm in anger.

Viktor pressed a hand into the arm of the chair and lifted himself out of it. I could see now how his muscles flexed against the augments he'd given himself, not too much, not too little. The intricacies of springs and hydraulics supported his weight, letting him glide gracefully across the stone floor in spite of those old injuries.

I tried to ignore how humorously normal his choice in undergarments was. Boxers, cotton, in the most unoffensive blue-grey possible.

Before he could stretch his face into another filthy smile, I glanced up at my bonds again. I tried to look intent on figuring out how the lacing worked, or how much pressure would have to be put on the chain to snap it. The grommets didn't look particularly sturdy, perhaps if I spent enough time wearing them down, I could—goddammit. I was looking at him again.

His smile was dangerous as he approached me. He licked his lips, slowly enough to make me stare and wonder. His teeth caught his lower lip, hard pearl against soft pink. His tongue poked out again to wet his lips. I realized my jaw had dropped ever so slightly, and closed it again with a gulp.

"You are easily distracted, boy," he mumbled in his filthy accent. I caught every word.

He leaned forward into a slow step, then another. He slammed his four-fingered hand into the table next to my hip, leaving a deep dent.

"You have to take risks in order to better yourself," he hummed, low in his throat. "I risked my very life to prove to the world that I am the better inventor and the better engineer. Do you think that you, some impotent child, could build something that I couldn't defeat?"

His teeth were beside my cheek, and I hoped my five-o'clock shadow had grown in enough to scratch him. It would serve him right. I glared up at him, unable to speak.

"Are you ready to take a risk?" he whispered, sending shivers of intensity up my spine. His human hand found its way to my back, where his blunt fingernails bit into my hip. I tried to squirm away, which only served to hurt my wrists more.

He pressed a knee between my legs, forcing them apart. I squirmed again, this time hard enough to bruise my bound ankles. He chuckled darkly at my pathetic attempts, and lifted me slightly so my weight forced me to grind into his knee with every movement. I was very still, barely daring to breathe.

He kissed me. There was no love or mercy in it, just hard teeth clicking against mine and too-warm breath and his slippery tongue in my mouth. He tasted coppery, and I realized I'd bitten his lip. The back of my head pressed painfully into the table behind me as he claimed my mouth with his disgusting tongue. I kept my eyes wide open, staring daggers into those yellow lights. The chain around his neck jammed against my sternum, and his fingers on my back started to drift under the waistline of my pants. I wriggled, trying to stop him, which only made my grinding on his knee more forceful.

We broke apart with a smack. Both of us gasped for air, his lip beading up with crimson. The side of his mouth quirked up, and something in me snapped.

This time, I pressed against him first. I closed my eyes this time, our noses bumping together before I found his mouth properly. I managed to catch his bottom lip with my teeth this time and bit softly, sucking it into my mouth. I lapped up the salty blood with lathing strokes, then delved into his mouth the way he'd done to me. My tongue found his, tracing over it and smoothing into the corners of his mouth. I memorized the feel of his teeth and the strength of his jaw before he decided enough was enough, and nipped.

I withdrew with an offended yelp, and glowered at him. He smiled and brought his head down to my neck, where he bit down on the sensitive flesh. I turned my head away with a gasp of pain. He licked the reddened skin there, and then peppered it with hot open-mouthed kisses. I laid my head back against the table again, inviting him to continue. A moan escaped me. I could feel his smirk against my throat, and I writhed in his grasp.

He kissed a line back up to my mouth, and pressed me into the wall again. His teeth found my lower lip, which he massaged shortly before coaxing my tongue into his mouth. I could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, and I'm sure he could feel mine too. His hands cupped my ass, and he pressed his leg into me again. This time, I moved on purpose, making it obvious that I was responding to this treatment. When we parted this time, both of us were panting.

He moved his hands to my sides, his thumbs stroking patterns into the muscles there. It almost tickled, the slow massage relaxing as I caught my breath. He bent down over me, his hair now brushing across my chest. His tongue poked out, catching one of my nipples. I gasped as he drew it into his hot mouth, his lips teasing it to stiffness. My head hit the table again as I moaned. His teeth brushed over it, too sensitive now as he drew in an icy breath. My toes curled.

He kissed a line over to the other one, repeating his treatment. His tongue swirled around the nub, the heat from his mouth absolutely stifling. I arched my back as best I could, forcing him to lap at it even harder. His teeth were still much too close and much too sharp, and the threat of pain against the given pleasure appealed to me in a way I'd never experienced before.

"Bite it," I requested breathlessly. He didn't question it, and complied.

Red hot pain burned across my chest. He'd been careful not to break the skin, but the pain was still shocking. It jolted down my stomach and straight between my legs. I whimpered, the noise turning into a moan as Viktor kissed that sensitive nub again.

Viktor straightened up and covered my mouth in another searing kiss. His hand brushed up my side, where he pinched the nipple he'd bitten. I squirmed and moaned into his kiss, grinding against his knee and hoping he'd take the hint.

He pulled away. The air was cold between us, after how warm I had gotten. Viktor's face still held the same amused smirk, as if he'd been plotting something. He turned his face to the cuffs on my wrists, and for a second, I was hopeful. If there was some chance he'd take them off of me, regardless of the circumstances, I was sure I could escape.

He stretched to his full height and grasped the bar my cuffs were attached to. With a mighty, steel-crushing pull, he wrenched the railing off of the table and threw it to the floor. I tried to move my still-tied legs to catch myself, but ended up toppling to my knees. Feeling started to come back to my good arm as my blood rushed to it, making it ache and throb. The cuffs felt much less uncomfortable now that not all of my weight was hanging from them. I flexed my fingers experimentally, lessening the tension in my forearm. The cold of the stone floor was welcome against my hand.

But damn, he hadn't removed the cuffs. This only proved he would go to any lengths to keep me here. The warped bar on the floor reminded me that I couldn't underestimate his strength. He may not look it, but he could crush my neck with one hand.

Viktor towered over me, hands on his hips and gaze on me alone. I shivered. His smile was positively menacing now, lips swollen and red. I shifted slightly, my pants uncomfortably pressed against certain parts of my anatomy.

His boxers were right at eye level, and I found myself glancing towards them to reassure myself that he was as aroused as I was. My eyes went wide. Viktor caught my glance with a dark smirk and a slow movement of his robotic hand.

His metal forefinger brushed down his sinewy torso, trailing past a raised nipple and revealing goosebumps in its wake. It caught for only an instant on a taut white slice, scar tissue wrapping across his hip and onto his stomach. I wondered what savior had marked him with that, and hoped it had been from me. He dipped one fingertip into his navel as he passed, and I again looked to his face. He hadn't stopped grinning once, judging my reactions through yellow lamps.

I watched his throat bob as he swallowed deliberately. My eyes then flicked back to the trail his hand was tracing through a line of sparse black hairs. He hooked a finger around his waist band, and tugged. His boxers fell away from one hip, catching on the other, then slid down his thigh. The soft material fell to the stone floor in a heap, and Viktor kicked it away with pointed metal toes. He posed shamelessly, cock on full display.

He was disgusting. He was horrible and remorseless and insane. He was inhuman, unfeeling, contemptible.

God, he was attractive.

"Your pupils are dilated," he noted smugly. His lips curled to reveal teeth, grin so wide it could have split his face.

I didn't give a damn that I was being so obvious. I stared openly at his strong shoulders, his lean muscle, his toned frame. It was almost poetic, the way his muscle sat cleanly on his hips, the way his chest arched, the set of his jaw. I was aching to touch him, damn the cuffs on my ankles.

He took a measured step towards me, his hand cupping himself to ward off the chill of his laboratory. He was almost close enough to touch now. He gave his shaft an experimental stroke, and mumbled a soft, throaty sigh of approval. I smiled as wide as I could, amused and teasing.

"I see there are some parts of you that remain human," I mocked.

"Mmm, there are some things that even my hextech augments can't improve," Viktor growled back. Suddenly, his cold fingers were in my hair, pulling my head down towards him. I complied without a second thought, allowing him to steer me towards his sizable cock. The tip nudged wetly against my lips, and I opened my mouth invitingly. Viktor moaned, his eternal smirk dropping into the shape of a gasp.

He was burning hot, salty, smelling of simple soap and metal shavings. He was thick against my tongue, heavy with arousal. I felt every ridge with the tip of my tongue, curious and slow at first. He pulled more forcefully, and I didn't resist. Inch by inch he slid past my lips. He hissed a warning when I wasn't careful enough with my teeth, and I chuckled around his length.

I tried a few movements, letting my jaw relax as I hollowed my cheeks to suck. He exhaled sharply, and I stopped as abruptly as I'd started. Next, I pressed the tip of my tongue to the underside of his cock, and quickly swirled my tongue around the head. He moaned - loudly I might add - and shifted his slowly warming fingers to the back of my neck. Then, I took him in as deeply as I could, and after a deep breath through my nose, I swallowed around him. I felt him tremble as he gasped.

I let him fall from my mouth with a wet pop. "Boy, you're sensitive," I goaded him, "It's almost like you haven't been—" He cut me off with a scowl and his dick against my tongue again. I smirked up at him as best I could, but continued my ministrations. "Laid in a while" had been the rest of my sentence, but he knew exactly what I'd been implying.

I hummed as he settled into a rhythm, snapping his hips forward and holding my head in place. I watched the way his thighs tensed just before each thrust, and licked circles into his skin each time. He was rocking onto his toes now, wanting more, wanting deeper and harder. I sucked around his suffocating heat and heard him hiss in response. The lean planes of his stomach were tensing rhythmically now too, as he arched over me to use the table for support. He was panting now, moaning softly as I took a more active role. He thrust, and I leaned forward to meet him. As he pulled away, I increased the suction almost painfully and drew my teeth across his shaft. He swore in his harsh language I couldn't understand, spitting out obscene words between low growls of pleasure. I was turning the great mad Viktor into an unstable mess, and damn was I enjoying myself.

He ripped me away from himself so roughly that I collapsed, surprised, to the side. With one powerful swipe of his mechanical hand, he crumpled the chain between my ankles like paper. Thoughtlessly, he pulled me forward by the belt and shattered the links apart. My ankles hurt after that treatment. He shoved me sloppily away from himself, and my arms failed to catch me. I found myself face-down in the blood-red underside of his cloak, smelling of ozone and detergent and him. I moaned before I could stop myself; the scent was addicting and powerful and something about it made me shiver. The chain between my wrists had landed under my stomach, and pressed into me with a cold burn.

"That was fast, old man," I sneered from the ground. He was clearly flustered, red in his cheeks and redder across his groin. He grimaced, and kicked me - gently, for him - in the ribs. I coughed and threw an elbow in the way instinctively, wincing. He wasn't cruel or perhaps stupid enough to break anything, but I could feel dark bruises rising to the surface. Once the initial sting faded, I grinned again.

"You're an ass." He frowned at that.

I heard a drawer slide open above my head, and Viktor threw a tube and a square of plastic at me. The tube hit my back with a cold slap, and the square caught momentarily in my short hair. I shifted, letting both items fall off of me, and then took a look. Lubrication. A condom. I didn't want to know what they'd been doing in that desk, but I was damn thankful they'd been there.

"In case you were confused about my intentions," he explained with a motion towards the two items. His jaw was set and his lips pressed in a thin line. He crossed his arms over his chest, perhaps out of cold or impatience. He didn't move.

"No, Viktor, you are incredibly obvious," I insulted him as best I could while chained up and face-down in his clothes. "As if now is the best time to be a prude. I hate you, but I swear on pain of void corruption that if you don't get these pants off of me this instant, I will kill you in your sleep." I lifted myself with one bent leg, my trapped cock positively painful by now.

"Mmm," he answered intelligently, getting to his knees. His calloused hand cupped under my chin and pulled me up for another rough series of kisses. Our teeth clacked again, and he nipped my lower lip before pulling away. The second kiss was open-mouthed, a flurry of tongues that lasted until we broke for air. He moaned into my lips, a soft, deep hum of approval. I shifted again, hoping he'd finally get to the point.

He nibbled at my earlobe, then sucked a raised mark into the flesh on my neck. His tongue drew circles there, first clockwise, then counterclockwise. He drew a cold breath through his teeth, followed by another heated kiss on the same spot. He exhaled slowly through his nose, tickling the hairs on the back of my neck.

"Dammit Viktor," I swore breathlessly. I felt him smile into my skin. I tried to squirm away from his self-important smugness and talented tongue, and he used my movement to topple me. I hit the barely-padded floor with a puff of air and a half-pronounced curse. His fingers found my belt, and straightened me, face-up, onto the center of the pile of clothes. His bare legs straddled my thighs, and there he sat, too heavy to usurp. Now he looked even more pleased with himself, hunched over me, sharp grin too close to my face.

My eyes widened as far as they could; he pressed his ice-cold hand into my bruised side, and I yelped. My sharp metal fingers scrabbled across his forearm, trying to find a grip. A moment passed, and his hand grew soothing. I relaxed again, gulping down a deep breath to calm myself. He managed to undo my belt buckle with his other hand, and when I heard it clink dully to the floor, I lifted my torso up on my elbows. He struggled with the button for a long moment, finally popping it off with a hiss of excitement. I lifted my hips, and he pulled my pants past my knees into a rumpled mess. Viktor's damn ankle cuffs kept him from removing them completely, but this already hurt so much less.

The only thing separating us now was a thin layer of red cotton. He rubbed his warm palm down my cock, and the relief of finally being touched after so long made me gasp. A warm tingle ran up my spine, and I pressed my hips forward into his hand. He trailed his palm up, across my tight stomach, and around to my left hip. I sighed, the feeling somewhere between ticklish and soothing. He crawled forward, resting his thigh across my groin and his metal hand beside my elbow. He caught my throat with an open mouth, hot and wet; I presented it to him without question, and he massaged bruises into my skin with teeth and lips. The soft suction on my neck sent tingles of electricity down my chest. He was solid against me, but lighter than I expected. I could hold him up quite easily, propped on my elbows and all. His lips moved to my jawline, pressing warmth into my scruff.

Viktor moved slowly against me, his cock rubbing against my stomach. He let out a soft groan as he brushed the chain laying across my torso. Then he slithered back off of me, running his hands down my sides and pulling my boxers off in one movement. I gasped as cold air hit my last warm region, and gasped again when Viktor cruelly cupped his icy hand around my backside. I opened my mouth to scold him, but bit back my words when he grasped and roughly stroked down my entire length. He repeated the motion jerkily, and it was all I could do to keep from moaning. His touch was electricity and fire across my skin. I bit down on my tongue to silence myself, and tried to watch between eyelids that didn't want to stay open.

They opened readily when I felt a freezing prod that turned into a numbing breach; he wiggled one finger inside of me and turned his smug face to me. His smirk widened when he realized I was watching his every move. The metal digit stretched again and pressed a little deeper. It felt strange but certainly not bad, the chill of the lab productive for once.

He withdrew that finger again, leaning over me to grab the small foil square. He carefully pinched it between two fingers, and kissed me quickly before leaning back on his knees. The foil tore quickly between his hand and his teeth. He spat the sliver of foil to one side, and leered down at me. The condom slid easily down his length, and he moaned throatily as he stroked himself once, twice.

He reached for the tube he'd thrown at me earlier. The top flipped open with a click, and he squeezed out a puddle of the clear goo into his palm. Seemingly unconcerned for the sake of his mechanical hand, he dipped three steel fingers into the lube and coated them thoroughly. I hissed through my teeth as he pressed two digits into me roughly, the lubrication helping slide them in without resistance. With his other hand, he slicked the remainder onto his own cock.

He scissored his fingers, the cold quickly numbing any pain there might have been and leaving a faintly stretched sensation. He rubbed, in and out, stretching and twisting, finally adding that third, slick finger. I still felt remarkably pain-free as he began pressing further in. A sort of dull ache gathered in my stomach as he pushed in to the knuckles, but then he curled his fingers and I tensed.

White burst in front of my eyes, and I felt all of my muscles tense. A gentle tingle started in the bottom of my stomach, one I wanted more of. It burned, warm and comfortable with a building intensity as he curled his fingers again and again. I hummed happily and spread my legs for him. He continued stroking himself, his muscles flexing over and over, steadily thrusting into his own palm.

I copied him. I leaned heavily on my constructed arm to free my human one. My hand wrapped neatly around my cock, and I tried to tease myself by tugging gently across the head. The warm intensity built higher as I stroked, and I moaned loudly as my rough palm dragged over my sensitive skin.

Viktor slapped my hand away and withdrew his now-warmed fingers. I frowned, and he glared.

"Use the hand I gave you," he ordered. His voice was low, nearly a whisper, and slightly breathless. A shiver ran down my spine. I liked that tone. I liked what I could do to him. Using all of his weight, he pressed my shoulders back into the cape splayed across the floor. He continued leaning over me, grasping an oil-stained rag from his desk to wipe his hands on. He tossed it haphazardly behind him, and then sat back between my legs.

My disgusting metal hand. I glanced at it, the way the fingers tapered into claws, the discs that slid across my knuckles as I flexed, the overlapping plates of metal and sinuous steel cables. Inhuman, filthy, a replacement instead of an accessory. It went against everything I fought for, and I had to be grateful for it. Viktor wanted this revolting machinery to be used to stroke myself off? As if I would ever be stupid enough to touch cold, hard, pointed alloy to hypersensitive flesh. I reached with my human hand again, and he slapped it away a second time.

"Why would I use this hand for anything delicate? Even in my work, I've trained myself to become left-handed." I reached again.

The tip of his cock nudged into me. Both hands went to the cloak beneath me, and I grasped until my knuckles were white. He was burning hot after the ice-cold fingertips.

"Use my gift to you," he repeated. His jaw was clenched, and he was now grasping the underside of my thigh. He lifted my leg, the fingernails biting marks into my skin. I watched him swallow, trying to calm himself. He was wound tight like a spring, every muscle straining for more as he held himself back.

I raised an eyebrow. He was serious about this. I lifted my head, and sighed heavily. I let the metal claws drag down my stomach, and gently slid them under my cock where it was pressed to my belly. I grasped my own length with my palm, trying to keep the sharp bits as far from my skin as possible. I moved, slowly, gasping as my cock slid past every bump of steel with the slightest of catches. Cold, polished robotics glided more easily than I'd expected. I squirmed, and Viktor came undone.

His hips snapped before he could control himself, and another inch of his cock slid inside. Without thinking, I wrapped my legs around his hips as tightly as I could and ran my slowly heating hand from base to tip and down again. I moaned, a low rumble in my chest, and moved my hips again. Viktor thrust again, trying his hardest not to push all in at once. I felt stretched open, the intense tingle in the pit of my stomach building immensely.

He owned me. I wasn't sure where that thought had come from, but as I watched the way he pushed in carefully but firmly, his hands on my thighs and the arm he'd built me wrapped around my cock shamelessly, handcuffs still binding me and his clothes shielding me from the stone floor, I knew it was true.

But I also saw the way I tore his ego apart, how he pushed me around to prove his dominance, and how he knew I'd come out of it smiling. I drove him crazy, with hatred or with pleasure. I owned him too.

Another snap of powerful hips fogged my mind over, and I put rational thoughts out of my mind. The sensation of sliding in combined with the amazing pressure as he hit that sensitive spot inside of me, and I moaned. He leaned forward and covered my mouth with his, growling possessively with a scalding kiss. I threaded my fingers through his hair, trying to keep my other hand stroking at the same time. The chain caught his neck, and with little thought, he snarled and tore the binding from my bruised arm. With full range of motion, I pulled him down against me again, nipping at his lips until they parted. He thrust into me, taking control of the kiss as I gasped distractedly. He thrust again, so powerfully my back arched against the ground. I linked my ankles behind his back, and pressed him in as hard as I could. I was mercifully relaxed around him, stretched to my limit and no more. He growled again, deep and low, as his nails bit into my hip. I barely felt the bite of pain over the dual sensations of his thrusting and my metal hand still stroking. Our lips didn't part other than to pant against each others' mouths, breath like steam, tongues entwined.

I whimpered. Viktor chuckled darkly at the noise, and found a tortuously slow rhythm. He rocked on his knees and the balls of his feet, and I clutched almost painfully at his hair. I could feel every one of his muscles, taut with anticipation and need, straining against me. Everything was too warm, so warm between us. I was burning, my stomach now heavy with arousal and the tingling sensation had built to a shock of pleasure every time Viktor pressed in. I gripped my cock with the flat sides of my claws, being careful but firm as I pulled at myself. Viktor was shivering, looking down at my swollen lips and dilated pupils between kisses. His thrusting grew erratic, and I understood that he was close, yet trying to last as long as he could. He sped his movements, hips snapping shakily into me.

"I…hate…you," he snarled into the kiss. I bit his lip. He hissed, but then kissed me, gently this time.

"You're perfect," he whimpered. His voice was soft, defeated even, and he put all of his strength into each thrust.

The tone in his voice shot, white-hot, into the base of my stomach. My robotic hand slid down my shaft one last time as he met me with perfect pressure. Every muscle tensed, my legs squeezing around his waist and my fingers tangling in his hair.

I bit down on his shoulder as I came, trying to stifle my loud cry.

I felt him finish with a pleasured growl, riding out his powerful orgasm while gripping my hips so hard I was fearful they might shatter. He finally stopped moving, and collapsed on top of me with a sigh.

I was sated, my entire body warm and fuzzy. I felt boneless beneath his relaxed weight. We both laid silently, just breathing together.

Wait.

He'd ripped my bindings off.

I tried not to be too obvious, squirming until he rolled off of me, letting me sit up. He was drowsy with exertion, and I used the short time I had wisely. I reached over, and before he could tell what my intentions were, I popped his leg off at the knee as I'd seen him do earlier. He reached for me, enraged, and toppled to his knees. I pushed the robotic part across the stone floor to the opposite end of the lab. It scraped to a halt, and he cursed. He lunged for my throat, but I threw myself out of the way just in time. My pants were still wrapped awkwardly around my ankles, and I managed to pull them on sloppily as he started to go after his foot.

Now, I couldn't very well make my escape without a shirt, so I snatched up his robe and wrapped it around my shoulders. He began shouting insults after me in his harsh language; I grinned cheekily at him over my shoulder, making sure to catch his eye. I shoved my feet into my boots without lacing them, and high-tailed it out of his lab.

Just before I'd found my way out, I pulled a key from my pocket. It was a small cube with a glowing cog on the side, impossible to miss. A key to my lab in Noxus. I tossed it behind me, and heard it ricochet off of a wall.

I wasn't sure if it was an invitation or a dare, but the thought of Viktor, my Viktor, red in the face and in my lab, sent a shot of hot adrenalin up my spine. I smiled, but didn't look back.

He wouldn't keep me waiting.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Please review and tell me if you would enjoy a continuation, where Viktor makes his way to Jayce's lab. I also happily take ideas via review or PM!


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